Earlier today I set you these problems (and a challenge) about constrained writing, a literary form in which a text must conform to mathematical rules.
Here are the puzzles again, with solutions. And below you will discover who won the Pilish challenge – judged by Sarah Hart, author of the fab new book Once Upon a Prime, about the links between maths and literature.
1. Pop art
Below are five sentences with the vowels and spaces taken out. Your task is to reinsert the vowels and spaces to recreate the sentences. Each sentence uses one vowel only. The five vowels – A, E, I, O and U – each have a sentence. To make it easier, each sentence has the name of a pop star and a famous artist, and could feasibly be a headline in this newspaper.
a) C H R G T S V R M R S K T C H
b) D M B S T R C K L L S C F F S M N C H
c) L D Y G G B G S C H G L L
d) S N P D G G S H W S T W R T H K W R K S
e) W L L S M T H S G N S H S K L M T P R N T
Answers:
a) Cher gets Vermeer sketch
b) Dumbstruck Lulu scuffs Munch
c) Lady Gaga bags a Chagall
d) Snoop Dogg shows two Rothko works
e) Will Smith signs his Klimt print
2. Creative curbs
Each of the sentences below is written according to a different constraint, i.e. a mathematical rule such as, say, “all words the same length”, or “no ‘e’s’ allowed”. Can you deduce what each constraint is?
1) I do not know where family doctors acquired illegibly perplexing handwriting.
2) Pert Pete wrote “QWERTY”. Wry Rory wept. Quiet Tori quit.
3) Dennis, Nell, Edna, Leon, Anita, Rolf, Nora, Alice, Carol, Lora, Cecil, Aaron, Flora, Tina, Noel and Ellen sinned.
4) Shimmering, gleaming, glistening glow
Winter reigns, splendiferous snow!
Won’t this sight, this stainless scene,
Endlessly yield days supreme?
Eying ground, deep piled, delights
Skiers scaling garish heights.
(Note: these six lines are an excerpt from Winter Reigns, a poem written by Mary Youngquist, the first woman to get a PhD in organic chemistry from MIT, and later editor of the US National Puzzlers’ League newsletter. It hides a very simple constraint. )
Answers:
1) The first word has one letter, the second word two letters, and so on, with each word having one letter more than the previous word. It’s what is popularly known as a “snowball sentence.”
2) The words use only letters that appear on the top row of a standard English keyboard.
3) A palindrome – reads the same way back to front.
4) The last letter of each word is the same as the first letter of the subsequent word. i.e “shimmering gleaming…”
3. Pilish, please (plus ’Pon Prime prize)
Pilish is a form of constrained writing in which the lengths of the words are determined by the mathematical constant pi, the number that begins 3.1415926535… (In other words, the first word must have 3 letters, the second word 1 letter, the third word 4 letters, the fourth 1, and so on.)
Perhaps the best known Pilish phrase is: How I want a drink, alcoholic of course, after the heavy lectures involving quantum mechanics, attributed to the physicist Sir James Jeans.
Not any longer! I asked you to submit your Pilish sentences. Thanks for everyone who took part – we had more than 100 submissions. It was hard for us to select a winner, but Sarah’s preference in the end was for one that cleverly spoke about the constraint. Congrats to Rob Ainsley from York!
For a time, I tried examining pi, hoping madly for clear patterns – presuming, wrongly, rationals can be any solution! Fool! Really, pi – moving with all its subtlety – can go forever, repeating never...
Here are a selection of our favourites. (We havent had time to check all the word lengths, so let us know if any should be disqualified. Nor have I had time to add all the authors of the submissions, sorry.)
Yes I know. A daily challenge of Pilish verse ups brain activity immensely without exception. Try it now.
How I love a novel challenge! My cereal spoon now rests, porridge congealed, waiting patiently ‘til my odd fixation ends.
Win a book! I think excitedly of clever words, and count numbered different letters carefully. One by one segments form, mostly in Pilish - wait for the upcoming joy of victory!
Win a book I yearn longingly to peruse: Sarah and Alex’s semantic challenge!
Bro, I want a print forthwith. It sounds grand but funds prohibit acquiring without donations.
Now I know a Maths programme is Rishi’s thing, but minus teachers, education reform’s difficult and so PM’s ambition goes beyond an actual goal one can complete.
Now, I have a story. Braverman, in normal style: “The boats crossing - STREAMING! - towards sovereign cul-de-sac homeland, must desist! We cannot have any new overseas men (or females) accessing great industrial or cultural boomtown. Thus, I pronounce emigrés a filthy intrusion, and dangerous situation.” But clearly, Rishi (a lacklustre Prime Minister) is vulnerable - extremely fragile - over attackers from Tory right. Hopefully we can appreciate foreign refugees, a common case, comparable groups of humanity? Anyway, we tofueating wokerati challenge authority! *Applause*
Try a bite; I taste delicious! Of summer fruits and cream: Currants, raspberry, apricot, blueberry... Bit by bit devoured, Only memory to savour left.
For a time, I tried prompting an answer using LLM. Those computed sentences emerged comically bad so the offering here shares my effort sans GPT.
Interesting competition. I’m not sure I want a copy of the book in its current form though:
“Why? I want a smart paperback. It surely beats the heavy hardback. Seriously- heavier hardbacks are no fun. Flexible, much easier to handle, neat: it’s the softback for me. Waiting, therefore.”
Can I make a funny conundrum in Pilish? Maybe its digit sequence precludes logical sentences.
Pie: a tart, a chart; resembles an adored ratio – the Greek alphabet character, running endlessly – aka PI, the constant with digits so random that one may remember but an insipid beginning slice.
Can I make a twist playfully on pilish words one could consider interests Bellos’s intellect?
‘Tis a test I could endeavour to accept. Sarah has tough decision selecting contest sentences.
How I love a nifty challenge! To slowly build the right sentence, observing utterly arbitrary and (in all fairness) daft limits, is really good fun. The daunting bit is shaping something lucid.
Pilish entry, in Haiku form:
And I know I learn Something as digits flood out. Touch infinity
For a time, I loved mastering Pi, circle forms and other geometry phenomena. Algebra currently has my new fondness; that urgent or keener love for timely work-out and engaging yen to revisit childhood maths. Oh! To lovingly persuade kids I currently counsel, “A puzzle increases the pleasures, intellect and general skill. Essentials, total lifetime wonderment, shall evermore be ... Oh! Alongside forever, your escaping, your safe place!
Now, O Alex, I write mindfully to devise - under the rules - graceful pertinent Pilish sentences; and, if you conclude this effort is worthy, then the day deserved all my efforts.
For a time, I hoped wistfully my bakery might win local culinary accolades. Awfully ludicrous, for we had stupidly been baking pi.
Thanks again everyone – your entries blew us away! Brilliant work!
I’ll be back in two weeks.
Once Upon a Prime by Sarah Hart can be bought at the Guardian Bookshop and other online sellers.
I set a puzzle here every two weeks on a Monday. I’m always on the look-out for great puzzles. If you would like to suggest one, email me.
I give school talks about maths and puzzles (online and in person). If your school is interested please get in touch.
